Living On A Prayer
by Alan Spencer
Summary: Taylor doesn't trigger at the locker. She continues going to Winslow, and when Emma attacks her, using how she feel after her mother's death, she can't stand it anymore and attacks her. This attracts the attention of Shadow Stalker.
1. 1

**Living On A Prayer**

The ritual progressed with enthusiasm.

They were insulting her, grouped so that it seemed they were talking with each other, the voices just high enough so she could hear them but not so much that other would notice it. She was put against the corner, figuratively and literally. In any case, she lacked the energy necessary to resist by now. She was tired. Sick of everything. Leaning against the window, she merely waited for it to end. Waited for the brief respite before things descended into hell, the pattern of her life during this whole time. Over and over again.

Gladly left the classroom, with a stack of folders under one arm. He looked at me in the eyes. The rant of the girls didn't stop for even an instant even though there was not even a meter between them, he had to be hearing each of those insults. She looked at him in the eyes. For a moment, Taylor allowed herself to think that, for once, things would torn out like they should. That justice would be served.

He left without doing anything, leaving her a look of pity like that was worth anything.

After the incident with the locker, she had thought that, as cruel as they had been with her, finally they would see that they had crossed the line and at least they would leave her in peace. The hated rhythm of day to day life continued as soon as she returned to the high school, like nothing had happened.

She didn't want to think about it, it was a black out that could adsorb her soul, but how could she not, in a situation like this? Her agitated thoughts were a white noise, the only moments of clarity in her surging anger had _that_ as the focal point, a kind of physical representation of everything that was wrong with her life since more that a year and half now.

There was a light in the middle of that suffering, the worst day of her life. The hope of obtaining powers, a way of getting to the surface before she drowned. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. And she had dragged herself to that school, to the torment that made her forget she was even alive, for no reason at all. Since a few days, she was seriously thinking of…

"What's the matter, Taylor?" Emma said. Her voice surprised her, she had approached. She prepared herself for what was to come. "You look upset. So upset you're going to cry yourself to sleep for a straight week?"

Nothing could have prepared her for that.

Something… something in her mind started to crack. In the beginning, she had resisted this treatement. It was something wrong, something that should be corrected. She had believed that it would end soon. Part of her had hoped that Emma and her would go back together, laugh together again, and they would leave it behind. The system failed. The pain opened her eyes, letting her see that what was threatening to engulf her life was a common part of society. She wanted to know why her, that was all, but they wouldn't give her even that.

Thoughts that she hadn't examined, since her hope had been shatter, came back to her mind.

There was no reason that explained why was she their victim. Though Emma participated in the bullying with what seemed like personal hatred, instigating the others, in reality any person would have sufficed. She had ended up with that role because she was a convenient prey. The fundamental problem of humanity. Each one, conscious of themselves

and of their own mortality, sought to belong and at the same time be more that the rest. Someone special.

Knowing that nobody cared about her, that they could do whatever they wanted and they wouldn't be punished, satisfied the desire rooted in the majority of humankind. That was all. Reasons weren't need to fulfill the order of society. Hating the weird kid exiled from the world wasn't something they had to felt bad about. For their greed, they were destroying the life of a person like it didn't matter.

When she realized the answer, that something in her mind, about to collapse, finally snapped.

There was a crack, to her ears like a shot from a gun.

It took her an instant to realize that it had been the sound of her fist hitting Emma in the face. Caught off guard, she fell to the ground on her ass with a gasp of surprise.

That…

That scene, that happened hundred of times, now on the reverse, the aggressor in the ground looking at her incredulity and confusion, filled her with satisfaction. Needed more.

That surprised the group, and they retreated like they were afraid of her. She was only vaguely aware of what was happening around her. Her vision was a tunnel with Emma on the other side.

"I will kill you." only when those words left her throat, she realized she meant it. Tears were streaming down her

cheeks. "You bitch, I will kill you."

With a hysterical scream that it was hard to believe came from her own throat, she threw herself on the top of her before she could react.

Taylor was weak, she had never fought with anybody before, but details like that no longer mattered. The dam had broek and everything she had held inside her was a raw, recent scream, pushing her to make her pay for every last thing she had done to her.

For some reason, her group of friends wasn't interfering, not even Sophia. It was like the school was abandoned, except for the two of them. That provoked a fit of laughter.

"Bitch, for once that's not in your favor." Taylor said, breathing agitatedly. She had given her a few good hits, her face was not longer fit to be on the covers of magazines. Those beatiful eyes were blackened by the fear, fear of her, that dyed them. Her hands closed around her throat.

And she squeezed.

It was stupid, her physical strength was negligible, but this was about getting even, unload her misery and frustration on the person who was behind all of it.

She felt a hand on her shoulder. Various teachers had come, alerted by the ruckus, o maybe because one of them had gone to tell them. The truth was that it didn't matter. She suspected it wouldn't have happened, if she had been the one on the receiving end of the hits, but she let it be. She fixed her gaze on her old fried. She was looking at her with a another expression. Confusion. A bit of fear.

 _I'm no longer a worm you can crush when and how you want. How does that feel? Tell me, Emma, how does that feel?_

Not very well, that was clear.

They gathered them in the principal's office, and the game started. They knew who they wanted to blame, and the rest of the process was find reasons to justify it, she could see it in them.

She had the courage to resist, but nothing had really changed. The System was still turning on its rusty wheels.

When they called her name, she rose from the chair, grabbing her coat, and got out without wasting time in putting it on. Ignored the voices behind that told her to come back. Not anymore, she promised herself. Fuck, not anymore.

Only when she put a good distance between herself and school, she let her tears fall again.


	2. 2

Not for the first time, Taylor was glad her father wasn't home most of the time. She didn't want to see him now. She didn't want to see or talk with anybody. She went straight to her room, and let herself fall on the bed. Her body feel like it was a rag doll, and the hay it had been filled with was removed. When she stopped moving, the remains of strength that were left in her body evaporated.

Emma… she had enjoyed making her suffer. No matter how she looked at it, it was a fact that couldn't be denied. She was sure her mother would have been proud because she had defended herself, but at the same time what she had done would have disgusted her. That line of thought was too much to bear, all the more so in her fragile state. As she was accustomed to, she locked it away in the deeps of her mind.

For her, the world, which seemed to have stagnated, advanced quickly. Her father was about to get back home.

It would be hard to act like nothing was happening, like the other times.

* * *

She had to be crazy to even think of it. She had procured what she need, got out of home and with every step she took it got harder and harder to back down. A knife on its sheath, attached to a belt. If she was going to do it, it should be with a gun even though she didn't know how to handle it, just in case. In close quarters it shouldn't matter much. But it was already done.

Her mother had died. Her father remained, but he was dead inside. Emma, her best friend, her only friend, had betrayed her. Dreams, hope for the future, she had had them but even those had left her behind.

Empty.

Like a tumbleweed floating on a high breeze, there was nothing to anchor her to the world. No reason to go on.

She needed that something, and in her search, both her mind and her head had turned to her childhood. The only safe place in the great highway of life. Wandering in the bad parts of the city- which in Brockton Bay, full of criminals, was a very relative designation-, she saw two thugs stealing from a woman in alley and… surely ready to do something that she didn't want to think about.

By the way they dressed, even though that didn't guarantee anything, she supposed that they weren't affiliated with any of the three main gangs of criminals.

Heroes, helping people. Her idol Alexandria. If she helped somebody, at least she would have something to feel proud about. Other people would realize she existed and would see her worth. That was all the reward that she desired.

Taylor took out the knife, grabbing the handle with force. She had come up to this point, she couldn't back down now. And if she died in the attempt… that she was in a such a situation clearly demonstrated that she had nothing to sacrifice. She wasn't afraid to die.

She approached. They didn't hear her coming. The fear of the woman, the jeers of the thugs, the scene as a whole gave her strength and made her grip firm.

Taylor buried the knife in the back of the neck of the thug closest to her, which a gun pressed against the throat of the woman. She was tall, so it was a fast and simple movement. The sound of flesh parting because of edge of the knife was nauseating. And the blood spilled, of a red so intense that it filled her vision.

He was dead. She had hit with precision, it wasn't a wound that he could recover from. She had done it, with her own hands, and it had only took an instant. It seemed unbelievable that seconds ago he had been alive, and now he was as good as dead.

He would disappear.

To the deeps of the darkness, like she had disappeared in the locker.

Taylor pulled the knife back, deepening the wound as it got out. Like that was the only thing holding him up, the thug fell down with a hand over his wound. She looked at the other. The surprise was brief, consumed by his anger.

Instead of taking out a weapon, he went for the pistol on the ground. Taylor moved to intercept him. Received a wave of pain.

In the next instant, she was on the ground, struggling to breath. He had given her a good punch in the chest. The thug looked at her, with the pistol in one hand. There was little she could done when the situation had got to this point. She would have surrendered, but the woman, trapped by her fear, had took advantage of her chance to run away. If she did it, her dead would have been for nothing.

Even though she had received such a strong blow, somehow she had maintained her grip on the handle.

"I wondered if you were a Cape. If you are, if you are some sort of Thinker, you chose the wrong fight. You are ugly as hell, but you will take that woman's place. I will make you suffer thoroughly before I blow your brains out." he cruelly smiled. "Whatever. In any case, a pussy is a pussy. Come on, show me what does that shirt..."

Taylor rushed towards him, hoping to catch him off guard. The thug grabbed one arm, and pushed away the knife from his body. He laughed. That intensified her desire to kill him.

"Don't be so eager, stupid bitch." she struggled, but that man took the knife from her hands with ease, and threw her to the ground. He straddled her. He put the gun somewhere on his jacket, and held her against the ground with his free hand, not even needing to apply much strength. "Fight how much you want. The faster you learn to be obedient, the better for you."

He cut her black shirt with knife. Only the shirt, she didn't need a bra.

"Oh. The kid doesn't have tits. It was obvious, but still is a real shame." he got closer to her naked chest. As he traced an undulant line with the knife above her flesh, as if to make clear in what position she was in, he touched her.

Okay, okay. She tried to calm down. She could still move her legs, and her hands. She could get out of this, with some luck.

Her efforts to get out clearly only excited him more.

Taylor realized she was crying. At least the woman finally had escaped, but… she didn't want to die, not like this. Realizing that her life still had some value for her, in a moment when there was no turning back, was the cruelest thing she had experienced in her whole life. Worse that the touches of that man. It was being in the locker again, but knowing that she had got inside on her own will. That she could only blame herself. She wasn't going to die like this, she refused to accept that ending.

Something crossed the air.

She saw something buried in the chest of the man, who was looking at the wound with incredulity. An arrow from a crossbow. A second shot, which hit him in the right eye, made him fall back and away from her. Some of the blood fell on her, viscous and terribly warm. Retreated, until her back hit against the wall. A shadow landed on the ground, and gained physical form an instant later. A girl, with a crossbow in one hand. It took her an instant to recognize her as Shadow Stalker, one of the Wards.

She had saved her. A true hero had saved her.

She approached her, and extended a hand towards her. Taylor grabbed her, and she pulled her up.

"Thanks." she managed to say.

"What exactly happened there?" Shadow Stalker said, her tone gruff. "Need the details."

"There was… this woman. They wanted to steal from her and… and rape her." saying that word made her feel sick, brought her mind back to those moments in an uncomfortably vivid way, but she forced herself to say it. "I tried to stop them.

"People like me are her for scum like that, you know? Or the police. Look..." she took out her cape, and put it against her hands. "Take this, cover yourself. Then we can sit down to have a chat."

Taylor did it.

"I'm in trouble, right? Because..."

"Killing that thug? Fuck, I'm no saint. The Protectorate doesn't need to know anything about this. I just want to talk. Tell me your name."

"Taylor Hebert." pressing the cape with force against her body, she followed her deeper inside the alley. They sat down in front of a backdoor of one of the buildings. "I know it was stupid, but..."

"Stupid? Maybe, you should know how to handle yourself and have a gun before trying to get into a fight with some thugs, but it shows that you are a strong person. The only thing I want to know is why. What made a girl like you do this. What were you looking for?"

"I… for a long time, my life was a living hell. Bad things from all sides. If I tried to resist, it only got worse. So I started to go with the flow of things. I gave up. It was easier that fighting and suffering. When I looked to the future, I had the terrible certainty that it would be something similar to my actual situation. That I wouldn't never do something worth, that I would never be happy again. That I couldn't never escape from those filling. It got to be too much. I got sick of it. I thought that helping somebody would be a start. It was aware of the dangers, but I didn't want to die. Really. Is just that I was not expecting to get out of it alive and I didn't care either. You understand what I'm trying to say?"

She was opening her heart to a stranger with a black mask made of metal, while with her father she hadn't feel at ease with since her mother's car accident. What a joke. But she knew she could trust her, for what she was.

"Yeah." Shadow Stalker sighed. "I don't like to talk about this, so you can consider yourself lucky, Hebert. Listen to me and listen well. I went through something similar. Lots of little things, adding up. Brockton Bay, to start with. This city rotten to the core. Is not good growing up in this place, less of all for somebody black like me. My stepfather was a drunk and, generally, a waste of space. He beat my mother. I was afraid for myself, and for my sister. That we would end up prey of some gang. All around me, I didn't see anything but liars hiding their true faces. I couldn't trust anybody, I'm still the same. That stress blew up, during a conversation with that son of a bitch, and I got my power. Didn't even realize it at first."

She stopped for a while, to order her thoughts.

"What I want to say is… On this violent, brutish little planet of ours, it's the survivors who wind up the strongest ones of all. You survived. If you want to learn from me, you can count on me. Of course, there's the risks with associating with a Parahuman. That depends on you."

Taylor nodded, unsure. Shadow Stalker wrote something on a notepad, and gave it to her. A number.

"The number of the phone they gave me. Is supposed to be for Ward matters, but what the hell. This is also a one of our duties, the welfare of a citizen." she said, sardonically. "Call me, before the day after tomorrow, if you accept my offer."

Stalker turned into shadow, and went through a wall.


	3. 3

Taylor thought about it, but in reality, from the beginning, there was only one answer possible for her. She needed something to hold on to. Shadow Stalker was a lifesaver, the first person in a long time with which she had felt… safe, with which she could let her guard down and not think about what to say and how to act. Something like a friend.

So she called her. She didn't have a phone, but she had a landline telephone.

She had half expected the girl to regret making the offer, that she would ignore her call. She answered, seemingly pleased.

That same day they meet, and Stalker started teaching her how to fight in the top of a building. A little late, so the session would fit between her patrols as a Ward. She was a little impatient, irritable and she didn't pull her punches without consideration to the fact that she was a complete newbie, but she wasn't a bad teacher. Too soon to obtain results, of course, but she didn't think she was. She allowed her to rest after… a while.

She surprised herself, realizing that she couldn't tell how much time. Her life had begun to be slow, tortuous, minutes becoming hours. But this… it had been fun. It was worth being shore all over.

"Taylor." Stalker said. "I know what happened to you, saw it with my own eyes. Why didn't you fight back?"

The Wards didn't have to go to Arcadia, she reminded herself.

"You saw?" her straightforward tone was dyed with a profound sense of betrayal. "And you didn't help me? You don't need to use your power to fight."

"I wanted to help you. I'm sure is hard to believe after that, but is the truth."

"Why not?" her heart was agitated. Too much. They meet each other yesterday, but she had put the remains on Taylor Hebert in her hands… and she was crushing them.

"Because, in this world, the only thing you can count on is your own strength." Stalker said. "I hoped you would open your eyes."

"I tried to do something, in the beginning. Nothing worked."

"What? Relay on the faculty? You heard me, Taylor. Your own strength. If you had resisted, I would have helped you. But you let them turn you into a victim."

She didn't know what to feel.

"I guess… you're right." Yeah. She had spend the last three months without lifting a finger, dragging herself to Winslow every morning for a reason no even herself understood exactly. "I won't be one again, no matter what happens."

Stalker gave her a slap on the back.

"That's how you start." with those grounds, she rose from the ground. "Come, let's do it again."

Taylor Hebert started the day with enthusiasm. Stalker had told her to run, with an established minimum distance that she would gradually increase, and speeding up the rhythm as she went and other exercises.

It was something to do, it allowed her to distract herself and live in the moment. IAs close as she was going to crossing the skies under her own power.

She should have done it much sooner.

"Taylor." her father said, as they had breakfast. His expression was hard to read. "They called me from Winslow, said that you skipped classes for a week without justification and that, the last day you went, you had a fight with Emma. Why?"

She had bothered to come out with a good lie, she only went running instead of the school without telling anything to him. She hadn't expected them to call, wouldn't be the first time that they didn't fulfill their duties, so she hadn't thought about what she would say if things came to this point.

"Taylor, please. Tell me was going on. Are they…?"

"Yeah. Never stopped, and Emma was part of it from the start." she admitted. The expression of her father twisted because of pain and, yes, betrayal. It hurt him that she didn't trust him. She looked down. "I don't want to go back to that place, talk about it or even think of it."

"I understand, but… your education is important." understand? He didn't understand anything. For an instant, she was back in the locker. The darkness, the smell, her agitated breathing growing weaker.

"There are other means. Leave it be, okay?" she held her gaze, with tears in her eyes. The person she was, and the person she was trying to build. She wanted to keep them separate, like they were strangers. This conversation was a painful reminder of everything that had happened. "Okay?

Danny, after a pause in which his gaze reflected self hatred and sorrow, nodded.

"You should go back." Stalker told her, sitting in the edge of the building, under the ashen sky. "You are hiding from them."

"...Is not worth it."

"You are afraid of them, despite everything. Remember. The only thing a person can count is his own strength. Don't expect me to let you come with me on patrols, if you hide from girls of your age."

"Okay." she said, despite herself. "I will do it."

Next day, like she had promised, Taylor Hebert came back to Winslow. Usually she arrived a bit late on purpose, when the students were on their classrooms, because the period of waiting so the belt rang and class officially started was perfect for suffering another trick of the trio. Not this time.

Like sharks smelling blood in the water, Emma, Madison and a handful of girls vaguely familiar came close to her. Sophia was few meters back, observing.

"Oh, Taylor. Good to see you. I was afraid you wouldn't never again show your face here." Emma said, sardonically, her expression twisted with incandescent anger. The fight was not something she could forget.

She felt like something was twisting her heart, seeing how the girl who had been her best friend looked at her, despite everything. Not even two years. How had everything gone so wrong? She shoved that train of thought aside. The reasons were meaningless, only what was.

"If you want to repeat it, I'm ready." Taylor said. Didn't look away, nor retreated.

Emma frowned.

"Who do you think you are?"

"Somebody stronger that you, in every way."

Emma shoved, causing her back to hit against the wall. That caught her off guard. Physical violence was Sophia's thing. Probably, she expected her to back down with just that. That she would go back to her place.

Like hell.

"Okay." Taylor muttered. "Have it your way."

She grabbed one of her arms, and twisted it behind her back. Ignoring her protests, and the sounds of pain, she violently slammed her against of the lockers. The impact of her head against the metal was satisfying.

"Never again, Emma. Never again."

"You? You are supposed… you are supposed to..." her breathing was agitated, she sounded almost like an animal.

Emma turned around, and threw herself against her, furious. Being violent, and in such a public, obvious way, was too strange coming from her. Her resistance must have affected her deeply. Even so, it was easy to beat. She let her on the ground, nearly unconscious. She believed herself to be superior to others. When she was pushed against the ropes, she fought back, but she lacked the strength to back up her words. Not like her.

 _I didn't want to be this way,_ Taylor though. It was a small voice in the back of her mind, and soon vanished like mist.

She felt her mouth forming a smile.

* * *

The teachers, of course, became aware of the incident. They gathered them in the principal's office, save from Emma, which was taken to the office. Sophia, also, as one of the people who had seen what had occurred. Things went like last time. Madison and Julia said that she had attacked Emma. It was a believable story, not even taking into account the usual factors, since Emma had got the worst of it by far. When Blackwell asked Sophia, she nodded distractedly.

"They are lying. And you know it." Taylor said. She was thinking of Shadow Stalker, what she would say, how she would handle herself in this situation. "I understand the problem of the gang presence in the school, that you cannot handle everything, I'm not blind. I'm not asking a lot. Just that when the faculty sees a problem, they don't ignore it."

"You should try to understand my position. Maybe you're in the right, but as long as the only thing I have is your word, my hands are tied."

"You have been notified of a problem. Wouldn't take you a lot of effort, to ask that they pay attention, verify in some way if I'm telling the truth or not. But of course, you don't really care. You have bigger things in mind." she forced a smile, hoping it would be full of the _presence_ Shadow Stalker transmitted. "I will only tell you one thing. You can punish me, expel me. But if she comes for me, is obvious that I would defend myself. And if she doesn't learn, maybe she will be the one to end up in the hospital this time."

"Hebert..." Blackwell protested.

"Your choice."

She expelled her for a few days. The dialog had been stressful, and the expulsion now was insignificant to her, so she didn't really care. She had demonstrated to herself, and probably to Shadow Stalker, that she was a strong person. She could defend herself.

Stalker sent her a message, telling her the hour and the place in which to meet.

She couldn't wait.

Taylor was getting better. The gap between her and Stalker was big and sometimes it made it hard to see, but it was clear. Stalker seemed satisfied with her progress.

"I saw what you did." she said, while they took a break. Though of course she wasn't the one who needed it. "I knew you had what it takes."

"Thanks." _If I don't ask her now I never will,_ she thought. "Can I ask you something?"

"Shoot."

"What you told me wasn't the whole truth, right?"

"Yeah." Stalker admitted. The silence extended during several minutes, while they just looked at each other. It seemed she was going to leave it like that. It was to be expected. "I killed my stepfather, to protect my family."

"But… you're a hero." the irony of her saying something like that, when not that long ago she had killed a person with her hands, didn't escape her. But it took her by surprise. It didn't fit with the image she had… that had built. That was one of those moments when se realized that her perceptions and the world had more gaps, cracks and undersides that what she thought.

"I didn't ask to be called like that. In the end, hero is just another label that people use to hide their true faces. But yes, mi intentions are good. People are supposed to help other and correct injustice, right? That's why I killed him. He was a person who was better off dead. In this world, there are far too many people like him."

"You're right."

She could understand those feelings, though not wholly. Many times she had wished that Emma, Sophia and Madison would disappear, and if she had power, if she could take the ultimate revenge… she wasn't sure if she could resist.

"I think you're ready." Stalker said. "And you?"

"Yeah."

It was what she wanted the most in the world.


	4. 4

Taylor went out at night, wearing a raincoat, the hood up, a cheap hockey mask, contacts and a bulletproof vest supplied by Shadow Stalker under her shirt. She hid a knife, and a gun. Stalker had also taken some time to teach her how to use one. They meet. Because of her power, she had to push her limits to maintain the rhythm, going from building to building, while Stalker wasn't even trying.

It didn't take them long to find a crime in progress.

A jewelry shop. With a truck, they had forced their way inside, leaving the pieces of broken glass scattered in the sidewalk. A group of thugs, nearly a dozen, were taking all that they could get their hands on.

"Ready?" Stalker asked her.

"Yeah." the idea of getting in the middle of group of thugs didn't affect her, like she had been doing this for a long time. Only one thing was on her mind: impatience. She wanted to see what person she had managed to build with the pieces of the one she had been.

They got down.

They had all sorts of weapons. The bulletproof vest would prevent her dying with a single shot, probably, and she had Shadow Stalker alongside her, but even still, a normal person would be shaking with her. From training, she had gone straight to a situation where a mistake might lead to her dead. One of them could be a Parahuman, then she couldn't trust Stalker would be there to save her.

Nothing.

The feeling that she was looking at the world through a camera was sickening.

They ran to the truck, terrified. They recognized Shadow Stalker, and since she was besides her they probably assumed she was a Parahuman too.

Stalker shot an arrow, used her power on it, and canceled it when it got inside the hood of the car. That destroyed the engine.

She let Taylor kill first. She opened one of the doors, slashed the throat of the thug before he could try anything. Putting Emma in her place had been satisfying. Killing that one man had made her felt sick. This time, her mind was blank, and her heart continued its normal rhythm. A machine had broken and it would never be repaired again. It was like what she had done, was just that.

The caged animals were executed with speed and ease.

One of them escaped through the backdoor.

Taylor ran after him.

He turned around, raising his gun.

Seeing the canon pointing towards her, she froze, instead of getting out of the way like she should have done. The shot was deafening, consuming her consciousness for an instant.

She was breathing roughly. For a moment, she wondered if she was going to die. The intense pain seemed to confirm it. The bullet hadn't got through the vest, she had got lucky. Shadow Stalker finished him off, and helped her to get up. Her expression was impossible to react with that mask on, but there was no doubt she was satisfied.

"You did well." Stalker said.

Not even that praise stirred something in her heart.

* * *

Shadow Stalker passed through the window, landed next to her bed and returned to her normal state. It was sudden, but Taylor had been wishing that she would show up, so she didn't react. Taylor placidly observed her from her bed.

"I was not sure you would come." Taylor said. Since two days ago, she hadn't show up for training or even gone to Winslow. She thought it was more probable that it would irritate her, that she would throw her away because she was a lost cause.

"That's what I was thinking of." Stalker admitted. "But I wanted to hear your reasons. You are… were improving, becoming a stronger person. That's what you wanted.

"That's what I thought I wanted. But… when that man shot me, there was some fear, but also a kind of pleasure. The intense pain exhilarated my sensations. I thought I was empty, nothing anchoring me to this world. That I needed to rebuild myself. But in getting close to death, I found life. Which is why..."

Even though everything was over, she had nowhere to go. She hadn't advanced a single step since that day, the shadows were as deep as ever. It couldn't be fixed.

"The illusion you build crumbled down." Stalker answered, with some bitterness tinging her tone. "I know what you're thinking about."

Taylor nodded.

"Fuck." she said, and took off her mask.

The face in front of her belonged to one of her bullies, Sophia Hess, and she was clearly angry.

"You don't look surprised."

"I had my suspicions. I didn't allow myself to consider them properly, but is not that much of a surprise taking those things into consideration." her voice at their first meeting, how she had clearly got something to disguise it for their second one, Sophia not participating in the bullying anymore, how she talked.

"I hoped you would get mad, that you… I don't know, react in some way."

"Is too late for that. I had time to think about it, you're not going to manage to change my mind."

Sophia bit her lip.

"I shouldn't be like this."

"A lot of things shouldn't." Taylor said. "For a long time, I longed for and hated the outside world. That perspective chained me. You showed me a part of another side, and you're the reason that I was able to understand myself. I'm sincerely grateful to you. Is a cruel joke, that the person that has treated me better during this time, is also one of those who took part in the worst experience of my life."

There was no value in a life like hers. It was a false life, a mockery.

"...Okay, do whatever you want." Sophia said, and put her mask back on. "Goodbye, Taylor."

"Goodbye."

When she was gone, Taylor looked out of the window. She wasn't sure about how to do it, but she still had time to think about it.

* * *

Taylor Hebert was going to do it.

Sophia had suspected it, before the visit. Hearing her words had confirmed that she was serious, she could see it in her eyes. In the core of all persons, there was a needy animal. Taylor needed security and acceptance. She had thought… hoped that there would be more, that she could overcome her nature and manage to become a stronger person. But like Emma, she had broken under own weight.

That's why this end was inevitable, even though it let her with a bad taste in her mouth.

* * *

Taylor chose one of the buildings in which she had practiced with Sophia. It seemed appropriate. The wind was strong. She stepped closer to the edge, and looked down. A snapshot of the flow of day to day life. It was all so small, in the end. She took a step forward, and let herself fall.

For a moment, she flew.

Lived.

 **FIN**

F


End file.
